The open palm of desire wants everything, it wants everything...

[techniclybrill]

Shilo is curled up in the common room of the Conrad, flipping through a history book written in the looping handwriting of some angel of knowledge or other. She's doing her best to think about the book, instead of how much she misses home, or her dad, or even her stupid room. Because she doesn't. Really.

Martin is at the coffee shop, staring at

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[crimeatthetime]

OHAI THAR, MARTIN.

Adrian was just on his way to the coffee shop. That's really what he needs right now. Something to make him jittery when he's already getting the itch to kill. Seeing the stone-faced angel bursting out through the door sends him to a near-literal screeching halt.

Fuck his life.

"Uh. Hi."

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin comes to a stop almost as quickly as Adrian, and stares at him for a second. It takes a moment for him to recognize the man. When he does, he kind of wishes he didn't. Some muscle in his shoulders twitches.

"...hi. You're Rachel's demon, yeah?" And Rachel's demon pretty much sums up Martin's position on the matter. Rachel's, so he's withholding whatever opinions he might have, so Martin will tolerate him on sufferance. Rachel's, so if anything happens to her... Well, not all guardian angels necessarily need a calling.

[crimeatthetime]

A few months ago that would have made him twitch, glare, retort. Now it just makes him grin. "Yes, I am."

Oh, right. Adrian never did apologize for that trying-to-choke-Martin-while-the-archangel-attempted-to-save-his-life. Thing. That happened, that one time. He scratches his neck and squinches up one eye and generally looks like a guilty kid. Rachel has that effect on his moods. "Ah, I meant to say... Before, when I was at the Conrad. Thank you. And I'm sorry for--" he gives one hand an awkward little wave. "Trying to kill you?"

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin presses his lips together and quietly informs the part of him that's pointing out that this is a demon and he really should be putting a bullet in his head rather than chatting with him that it can take a long walk. Off the pier. That part of him doesn't seem to be listening.

"Yeah. Well. Blood loss will mess with your head." Being a demon will do that too, but we'll just move on by that point like we don't want to kill each other, shall we? He pauses a moment. "You're welcome."

They probably could get more awkward, but they'd have to be really trying.

[crimeatthetime]

"It will," he says, a little quieter. Adrian sighs. "I suppose I can't treat you to anything?"

He jerks his head in the direction of the coffee shop that Martin so recently and vehemently vacated. "They burn your latte, or just a bad day in general?"

Yes, Martin. The demon who tried to strangle you is now attempting small talk.

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin glances back to the coffee shop, and snorts a little. "Yeah, well, the coffee shop didn't offend me or anything, I was just..." Just stalking off because his sort-of-niece gave him the worst news short of, you know, Biblical plagues. (Secretly, Martin sort of thinks the Barnams are the eleventh plague.)

"The Barnams may or may not be coming into town to retrieve their wayward daughter. That's all." So Adrian's a demon. Martin figures he deserves a little warning for the apocalypse.

[crimeatthetime]

Thought comes to a horrible, screeching halt. Barnams. Barnams in Chicago. Lots of Barnams in Chicago.

"Jesus, Joseph and the angel that fucked Mary," he whispers, and starts to cross himself, stopping half-way through the motion. Somehow he doubts God would appreciate the statement and the action married together. "J-- hijo de mil putas."

He turns and thumps his head against the plaster next to the coffee shop's front window.

[astrongerbeacon]

"Yeah. My thoughts exactly." Martin's concern about the Barnams is pretty indirect. Sure, apocalypse follows in their wake, but he's an archangel and he used to run with one of their cousins - the chances they will hunt him down and kill him are slim to none. Adrian, on the other hand...

"Understand I'm not telling you this because I like you or anything, I just think Rachel would cry if you were shot in the head and your body dumped in the lake," he says after a moment, completely deadpan.

[crimeatthetime]

"Exactly." Adrian casts Martin a sidelong look, full of irony. "Even in Spanish? Tengo que admitir, estoy impresionado."

He gives his head one more little thump against the wall before turning to face Martin properly again. "Believe me, I harbor no sweet rose-colored illusions in that arena. Fuck."

The demon rubs his lips with a finger, then winces. "Oh Jesus fuck. I have to get Rachel out of the city before they show up."

Dusty too, if he can manage it. There's no way he'd trust either one of them to keep themselves from charging into whatever mess the Barnams stir up, and he's not having them hurt because of a pack of archangels psychopaths. Even if it means getting himself killed stopping them. Adrian twitches a smile at nothing in particular. "Sinceramente, reconocere que soy un poco melodramatico."

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin rolls his eyes a little. He knows enough Spanish to get by, but he's not going to dignify that with an answer. That bit about Rachel, though... He purses his lips, running a hand through his hair. Never thought he'd see the day when he was plotting with a demon against a friend, but...

"Good luck with that. You think asking her nicely stands a chance of getting her out of town? Because I'm really not seeing it." This is Rachel Conway they're talking about. Come on now. You'd need heavy duty sedatives and possibly a pair of handcuffs. And a very fast car.